


Charming is a Verb

by jillyfae



Series: Intended [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Drunk Sex, F/M, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Politics, Romance, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2017-12-21 21:49:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jillyfae/pseuds/jillyfae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aedan Cousland was a bit of a fop.  Zevran Arainai was an assassin.  Anora Mac Tir could only rely on herself.</p><p>And then the Blight changed everything.  Eventually.</p><p>(Random whatever things I think up for these three.  I have no idea what might happen.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clarity

Of course it didn’t mean anything.

_The callouses on his hands caught on Zevran’s skin, his teeth pulled on his bottom lip, for just a moment, before his tongue and lips kissed the lingering sensation of their sharp edges away._

They’d tumbled together more than once before, of course, warmed each others bedrolls, filled each other’s tents.

_“My Zevran, yes, there, yes,” his back arched and his voice whispered, heat and alcohol combined to slur his words, but not so much they couldn’t be heard._

I am not yours.  You cannot really be mine.

_Zevran could feel that heat in his chest, in the way their fingers clenched around each other, in the way he wanted to whisper his lover’s name in response, however much he tried to pretend it was just about the fuck._

It was convenience.  Encouraged by alcohol and the nearness of actual beds.  Be a shame not to put a proper mattress to use, right?

_Eyes blinked as the dim light of dawn edged the curtains, trying to ignore the dull ache of a slight hangover, breath catching as fingers trailed across his chest, his thighs, as lips met his in a soft good-morning kiss._

No more excuses.  Not alcohol.  Not convenience.  Not just an excuse to rent a room.

_He could feel the warmth down to his toes, could feel his fingers finding, grasping, clinging to the other man as the kiss went on, and on, lips lingering until it was difficult to breathe._

Maker’s breath, this was going to end very badly.

For once he cared.  For once it wasn’t enough to stop him.


	2. the smell of spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompted via [dragon age drabbles](http://dragonagedrabbles.tumblr.com/post/42113718813/m-cousland-zevran-arainai)

He hadn’t thought he’d live this long.

Hadn’t really wanted to make it long enough to smell the green of new growth back when the leaves had begun to turn and fall, when the air turned sharp as a lover’s smile.

Only.

His lover’s smiles weren’t sharp.  

Neither were his own, anymore.  He still wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

But he knew as long as he could see that soft warm curve of lips, he’d want to see spring again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chat meta rather than proper fic, but I was amused, so I'm sharing

_hot-elf asked: I loved the Cousland/Anora fic! Will there be more? I would love to read more about those two, and I am curious how Zev would fit in…_  
\--

Zevran: I am very good at fitting in wherever I may be desired, don't you know?  
Aedan: Maker's breath, Zevran, they can't see you smirk, there is no way that line will work without a visual to go along with it.  
Zevran: But I'm sure our readers have very ... active ... imaginations.  
Aedan: And now they're going to start picturing you and my wife together, and while I enjoy that sort of thing, Anora might kill you.  
Zevran: But I am very hard to kill, and really, she does like me. Just a little.  
Aedan: When you're not flirting with her.  
Zevran: But she is such a beautiful woman, brilliant and poised. She deserves all the compliments.  
Aedan:   
Zevran: What?  
Aedan: There are days I think you like her more than me.  
Zevran: Ah! To say such things. When you doubt me, it is like the twist of a dagger in my heart.  
Aedan: Oh just shut up and kiss me you idiot.


	4. indulged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [for brenna](http://faejilly.tumblr.com/post/111048135313)

Zevran convinces her to play chess with him, curled up in a window-seat, drinking tea and ignoring the sound of the wind.

They play for hours, neither trying quite so hard as they should to win, neither willing to concede, either.

Aedan shakes his head and rolls his eyes and goes and charms the cooks for sweet breads before he curls up in his own chair, just close enough to hear the murmur of their voices and see the light in pale and golden blonde hair, and reads the latest  _Randy Dowager_. 

Sometimes he retells the stories to them later, when the candles have all been snuffed and the bed-curtains are drawn, lingering over the details of sex and love even as his hands linger against their skin, and Zevran tells him they’re all quite improbable and probably uncomfortable, and Anora silences his critique with the press of her lips and her tongue in his mouth and her leg sliding between his thighs, and they try them out anyways.


End file.
